We'll spare you the pearl-clutching and get straight to the point: how does a retail establishment allegedly deal hard drugs without attracting the attention of, well, anyone in a position of authority? This isn't a fleeting hand-to-hand transaction in a dark doorway. This is a brick-and-mortar business with a fixed address, regular hours, and presumably a business license issued by the City and County of San Francisco.

As one SF resident put it bluntly: "Between the corner stores getting busted for slot machines and drug dealing, makes you wonder how many SFPD officers are on the take. No one ever noticed till now?" It's a fair question. We're not in the business of accusing anyone of corruption without evidence, but we are in the business of asking why the city's regulatory and law enforcement apparatus seems perpetually asleep at the wheel.

San Francisco issues business permits. It has health inspectors. It has beat cops. It has a District Attorney's office. It has neighborhood complaint systems. And yet, time after time, we learn that illegal activity was allegedly flourishing in plain sight — whether it's unlicensed gambling machines in corner stores or, apparently, methamphetamine sales.

This is what happens when a city pours resources into endless bureaucratic programs while neglecting the basic blocking and tackling of public safety and code enforcement. You don't need a new task force or a blue-ribbon commission. You need people doing their jobs — inspecting businesses, walking beats, and following up on complaints from residents who already know exactly which storefronts are shady.

The lawsuit is a start. But the bigger scandal isn't that one store allegedly sold meth. It's that San Francisco's sprawling government apparatus, funded by billions in taxpayer dollars, seemingly couldn't catch what the neighborhood probably already knew.